


Hackers or Heroes

by LadyJaye



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Leverage, Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Eliot doesn't want to have friends, F/F, F/M, First story, Good to have friends, Hackers, Had to write this, Heroes, How many people can Parker tase in one story, Inner Demons, LET'S FIND OUT, Lazarus Pit, M/M, Merlyn Family Chats, Multi, Other, Reimagining, Sara never died, Secret BFF, Sorta Canon, Team Up, Tommy Merlyn is Alive, Violence, Who wants to see Eliot and Ollie have a gravely voice contest., badass Felicity, badass hardision, begrudging respect, damn it felicity and hardison, did they or didn't they?, hacker central, loa - Freeform, villians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:24:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaye/pseuds/LadyJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several of the world’s best hackers have gone missing over 3 days. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You all know that I began my illustrious career my sophomore year of high school. I was sixteen years old and my Nana was dying. My foster siblings had all either been kicked out or had gone off to live their own lives. At the time, I felt like I didn’t have a choice. All the doors were closing in our faces and these were people that had promised to help us. Members of the community that knew my Nana and her struggle. Then, after Iceland, I decided to pay them back for what they did. That’s when I met Felicity Smoak and her merry band of hackers.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kidnapped.

**Author's Note:**

> So thanks for clicking guys! I had this idea over the summer and even wrote a little bit of it on the train to and from work but set it down for a while not thinking anything of it. Now it's just not going away. At all. So I figured it'd be worth working on while we're on Arrow hiatus. So here we go. This is a merging of several worlds. I feel like it works because Arrow/Flash is at the beginning of vigilante/meta-human beings going public. Each of these fandoms operates at a different level of the universe.

Starling City

"Alright Big Belly Burger, I need food now, " Felicity said while tapping the side of her desk at Queen Consolidated. She stared at the Big Belly Burger order meter brows furrowed in concentration. 

"Are you trying to move the delivery meter by the sheer force of your will?" Sara asked from the waiting area couch. She'd long since stretched out along the length of the oddly comfortable leather in an attempt to pretend she was being patient. 

Felicity smiled at her and her effort.

"Are you trying to make a "force" joke?" 

"Force?"

"I mean as in THE?" Felicity tried. Sara's eyebrows rose in response and Felicity attempted again. 

"As in Jedi powers...'Use the "force" Luke'!"

"Oh!" Sara drew out the word and Felicity slapped her hand to her forehead and groaned. 

"Clearly Ollie and I need to educate you."

"Ollie? You mean our Ollie?" Sara sat up. It was one thing for their regular nerd baby to be a Star Wars nut. Felicity grinned at her and winked. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Oliver’s secret stash of photos from his childhood?” 

“I think I would have remembered that as a kid,” Sara debated. 

“The internet keeps no secrets,” Felicity reminded her. 

Just then the computer buzzed and Felicity whooped with joy. 

"Food!" 

Sara jumped up. "I'll get it for you."

"Between you and Oliver,” Felicity said. She sighed and shook her head at Sara. 

“It’s just the deliveryman. He doesn't bite. Even though I like the biting...well..from you..AND Ollie...he doesn't."

"You're right he doesn't bite. He flirts,” Sara explained. 

"And him flirting with you is better?"

Sara shook her head and her voice dropped down to a purr. "He doesn't flirt with me. He's too scared."

And with that Sara swept out of the office hips swaying in a way that made Felicity's legs slam closed and caused her eyes to stay glued to the spot where she'd just been standing for a while. It took the windows shattering behind her to break her gaze. 

A burst of icy wind swept at her back and brought her to action. That Sara wasn't already in the room meant she was too far away or already engaged with more attackers. Either way, no one was going to stop this. Her fingers flew across her keyboard like they were on fire. She smiled grimly. They might as well be. The program was in progress when men in military grade gear swept into the room. 

There were twelve total. They thought they'd find Sara or Ollie or Roy and Diggle with her, she presumed. Her system powered down and she forced her heartbeat to slow. The beacon was up and she swore she could feel her heartbeat hammering its way through her chest. She forced herself to remain calm. Screaming and running was only going to get her hurt. Deep breaths soothed her and she reminded herself that this wasn't her first rodeo. Being the girlfriend of a vigilante and an assassin with an assassin ex-girlfriend to boot meant she'd been tied to more chairs than most people. 

She swiveled in her chair, legs crossed, fingers steepled under her chin. She gestured widely at the group of men with guns pointed at her. After all her time with Team Arrow, she could get through this. They'd find her. 

"All of this just for me?" She asked through false bravado. They advanced on her and advised her to place he hands above her head. She did as she was told and could hear the slam of a body against the wall outside of the office. There was a distinctively male shout and it was as if the air had changed around her without noticing. The men before her tensed up and seemed to aim their guns beyond her. Felicity whipped around and found Sara, sans mask, bearing down on them. 

"Don't touch my girlfriend," Sara said in her Canary voice. She had her staff fully extended and if Felicity wasn't mistaken she could see the earpiece jutting out and blinking. She was in contact with Oliver. He was on his way. 

"You're not the mission," one of the men said in a gruff voice. Shades of Slade Wilson's distinct crazy danced across Felicity's thoughts. 

One of the men pulled her from the chair and she saw the cloth coming up to her mouth and groaned. 

"You're not even trying to be origina--mpf."

She relaxed instantly in his arms with the exception of her fingers, which still twitched against his forearm. There was yelling and a lot of what sounded like knocking and a whole lot of screaming. She knew better than to fear for Sara, though. She was her Super Woman. Felicity slid much more easily than she imagined into the quiet.

After all, this was her new normal.

___________

 

Bed Stuy, Brooklyn, NY

“Hardison, Lucille isn’t answering. Can you talk to her for me? There’s water in the basement and the pilot light is out. Just thought she should know.” 

The female voice replayed the message on a loop echoed by the video replay of Hardison watching the message on the office display screens. 

All around him Eliot heard the crackle of glass, Sophie or Nate sweeping the area behind him, or felt the swift breeze of Parker pacing beside him. Her chest heaved as she took in deep breaths, being the one who had raced up the stairs from the brew pup to office the moment they heard glass shattering and bullets breaking through the wall. Eliot had been right behind her, but she was closest to the door, screaming out Hardison’s name when she burst into the room. 

“I saw him,” she repeated for the third time. “If I had been faster I could have—“ 

“Been shot,” Eliot finished for her. “You’re lucky I was right on your ass, Parker.” 

He swallowed thickly at the mere thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t tackled her to the ground. His mind reacted before he had a chance to shut his emotions down. He imagined her body on the floor with her blood spilled next to Hardison’s. Eliot took a deep breath, but even then his gaze wandered to the thick red patch on the floor next to Hardison’s damn near annihilated “babies”. Rage bubbled to the surface. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to Hardison, not to any of his family. 

“Hardison, Lucille isn’t answering. Can you talk to her for me? There’s water in the basement and the pilot light is out. Just thought she should know.” 

Nimble fingers wrapped around his shoulder and squeezed surprisingly hard. Eliot tore his gaze away. They were wasting time. He looked to Parker, who’d come to him on her own as she always did when she was ready for whatever came next, and found that her own gaze had hardened. 

“They took him for a reason,” she reminded him. She was right, of course. There was no body and no matter how much his chest constricted at the thought of Alec dumped on the side of the road somewhere it was a fact that calmed him. If they wanted Hardison dead there were better ways of doing it than sounding the alarm and breaking in through their office. 

“They need him,” Eliot echoed. “He’s still alive but we don’t know for how long.” 

“I hate to say this, but where the hell do we even start,” Nate said. He had just entered the office. Eliot almost rounded on him with furious intent, but Sophie stepped in between them with her arms up and voice soft. They had just arrived a few hours earlier in New York. 

“I think what Nate is trying to say is, who exactly would take Hardison? Does he have any outside of our work?” She asked them all. 

They all jumped to Colin Mason, but a quick check and it was clear that while he had been in prison his death was confirmed after a prison riot a few days earlier. With Sophie acting as his older sister, she could fly out and identify the body to be sure. 

“Hardison, Lucille isn’t answering. Can you talk to her for me? There’s water in the basement and the pilot light is out. Just thought she should know.” 

“And who would do it in such an obvious way? Why so open with it? They could have done this more easily and without a trail.” Nate added. 

Eliot grunted, more out of frustration than perceived slight, but hung back and leaned on one of the only chairs left in the office without bullet holes in it. Parker leaned on him. He had to reign himself in and knew by gut instinct that everyone else was doing the same. They couldn’t find Hardison if they were all losing it at once. This was what they were good at, solving problems together. He just wished it didn’t feel like the whole world was sloping downward. 

“It’s a trap then. They want us to find Hardison. They know that we will.” Parker said. She glanced over at the computer system that was still smoking. 

“He has a backup system at home. It’s supposed to update every hour on the hour. Obviously he was in contact with,” Eliot said and gestured to the repeated message, “Whoever the hell this person is.” 

“Hardison, Lucille isn’t answering. Can you talk to her for me? There’s water in the basement and the pilot light is out. Just thought she should know.” 

“Isn’t it automated?” Sophie asked. 

“It’s on a loop,” Eliot said. “It’s a real person with changing inflection. It’s a coded message, maybe even a challenge code. I’ve never heard it before. Whoever she is, she knows about Lucille.” 

“She sounds like she was reaching out for help. Neither of you recognizes her as a friend of his?” Nate asked. 

Eliot glanced at Parker and they shook their heads in unison and for him mostly shame. There were rational reasons for not knowing for sure. They spent almost every waking moment with each other on a job or at home and Hardison never made it a point to tell them. He talked about his Nana, his friendly Internet orcs, and his avid hate for his nemesis Chaos. Only two of those people could tell them about Hardison before he joined their crew. And he couldn’t reach either of them. 

“I think the closest thing to a friend outside of us is Chaos,” Parker said. “That we know of anyway.” 

“I can be on the next flight to Portland,” Sophie said. 

“It wouldn’t do us any good. He couldn’t plan this from prison. Especially out of FCI Sheridan. He can’t even access a land line without supervision,” Eliot said. “I say we start with her—whoever this is. This message isn’t a coincidence.” 

“Remember Dubenich?” Sophie said. “He orchestrated his revenge while in a jail cell!” 

Parker’s phone buzzed in her pocket silencing Eliot’s response, which wouldn’t have been pleasant anyway, and had them both retreating to their thoughts. Eliot watched Parker whip out her phone with such ferocity she almost sent it flying out of the window. Hardison’s face came up on the screen and the looped phrase stopped. Parker’s face lit up and she whooped with joy. Her finger swiped at the screen, but it just continued to buzz. 

“Hardison, Lucille isn’t answering. Can you talk to her for me? There’s water in the basement and the pilot light is out. Just thought she should know.” 

“What is it? Is it a call?” Eliot asked. Sophie and Nate surrounded her as she furiously tapped at the screen to no avail. It wasn’t until her thumb fully pressed against the screen that the program seemed to activate. 

“Wait Parker,” Eliot said. His hand came to gently rest on her wrist and keep her steady. 

“It’s a scanner? For what?” Sophie asked. 

As if on cue, the phone scanned Parker’s thumb and Hardison’s voice filled the apartment. Hardison’s face was projected onto the broken screens hanging on the wall in front of them. Nate and Sophie whipped around to look and Eliot half expected to see him stumbling in behind them. He caught a glimpse of the projector they had installed years ago. 

Disappointment filled him and Eliot had to take the phone out of Parker’s hands before she snapped it in two with her powerful grip. He took her hand instead. He didn’t even complain about the crack in one of his knuckles that mean she’d squeezed too hard. He could take the punishment especially if it made Parker feel better. 

“Hey Mama,” Hardison said. 

The time stamp indicated that he recorded the message three years prior. Two years after himself, Parker, and Hardison had become official. He was wearing one of his Star Trek shirts and was sitting in Nate’s old apartment in Boston. At closer look indicated that he sat in McRory’s Pub but he didn’t look like himself. His smile was gone, his eyes had dark circles beneath them, and his shoulders slumped. He leaned forward and adjusted the camera a bit so it was more centered. 

“I’m sorry you have to see this. I know that if you’re watching this then something has happened to me. I hope Eliot is with you. I hope you’re both okay even though I’m not. This is one of the two emergency programs I’ve set up. After our most recent job, I’ve realized that someday we'll need a contingency just in case I might get captured again or if something happens to me and I’m not around anymore.” 

Parker shifted away from Eliot and it wasn’t until she stopped again that he realized he’d followed her on instinct to the projection. Hardison looked gutted. His voice was deep and low, resigned to something Eliot didn’t even begin to know how to figure out how to fix. He ran the words over again in his head. 

“This must have been after the funeral job,” Eliot said. His pulse quickened at the reminder of the close call. 

Parker nodded in front of him. Eliot hadn’t realized Hardison had thought anymore about the job after he’d exacted his revenge on the cartel members. Everything had seemed fine. 

“I realized yesterday that you know me, but you don’t know about me. Nate’s chased me through dozens of aliases, but that was only a part of my former operations. I was younger, angry, and I had just discovered a way that I could have a power when I had none. I was different. I didn’t care whom I used my skills on or the fallout from our work. I never wanted any of you to find out. In truth, it wasn’t until a few years into working with you all that I decided I had even done wrong. I just focused on who my Nana said I could be if I weren’t so angry.”

“You all know that I began my illustrious career my sophomore year of high school. I was sixteen years old and my Nana was dying. My foster siblings had all either been kicked out or had gone off to live their own lives. At the time, I felt like I didn’t have a choice. All the doors were closing in our faces and these were people that had promised to help us. Members of the community that knew my Nana and her struggle. Then, after Iceland, I decided to pay them back for what they did. That’s when I met Felicity Smoak and her merry band of hackers.”


	2. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Eliot?” Parker shook his shoulder and it brought him out of his thoughts. She wouldn’t say it, but she wasn’t scared. She was worried Eliot would misinterpret her not being scared but deep down she could admit to herself that she wasn’t. They would get Hardison back. It was what they did. What DID scare her was the look in Eliot’s eyes. Eliot was afraid. That was normal. He had once told Hardison that fear sharpened your edges and heightened your senses. That look was as far from normal as they could get. How lax they had become over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you for all the support for this story. I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter!

_Boston, Massachusetts McRory's._

"I don't like this," Eliot said aloud for the first time since they entered their old stomping grounds.

 He'd made it known to Parker from the brownstone the bar in grunts, growls of irritation, and other forms of grump. Parker sent him a sidelong glance that stopped his tirade. She walked behind the bar now owned by Nate's niece and retrieved a beer from what been Nate's secret stash. It was chilled but she didn't mind. She even set it gently on the counter where Eliot met her.

His steady gaze rooted her to the spot. It was funny considering that Boston was her favorite root aside from Archie and Midtown Manhattan. Boston was where she gained a family, where she fell in love for the first time, where she started to heal. Eliot took the beer, but his fingers lingered on hers.

"I can't lose you, too," he said. His voice was thick but still rumbled. 

It was the same voice he used to talk her down from a high emotional state in the past. It was strange that between the two of them he needed it more than her now. She could see the stitches over his calm state loosening by the second. This wasn't the first time Hardison had ever been taken from them before and like the times before Eliot wasted no time beating up on himself. But she couldn't and shouldn't tell him that. It would just aggravate him further and they'd waste time. 

She just nodded and reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. It felt incomplete without Hardison's arm around their waists and him resting his forehead on Eliot's temple.

"We're just here to get his back up equipment and then it's a two-hour drive to Starling City," Parker reminded him. Many of Hardison's earlier pieces of hardware were still stored in the apartment above the bar that he never rented out. Most of it was easier to use than his newer stuff. Things he never got around to showing them. So, they'd make do with what they could.

“Eliot?” She shook his shoulder and it brought him out of his thoughts. She wouldn’t say it, but she wasn’t scared. She was worried Eliot would misinterpret her not being scared but deep down she could admit to herself that she wasn’t. They would get Hardison back. It was what they did. What _did_ scare her was the look in Eliot’s eyes. Eliot was afraid. That was normal. He had once told Hardison that fear sharpened your edges and heightened your senses. That look was as far from normal as they could get. How lax they had become over the years.

"I just can't picture it," Eliot said.

Parker nodded and understood without having to ask. Neither could she. Hardison was a criminal once just like they were but he never lied to them. He was the upfront and most normal of them all. Most of all, he didn't endanger them. It just didn't feel like their Alec. Their Alec spent years going to Star Trek conventions and hacking into financial institutions to steal their money. He didn't cause death and destruction.

Eliot's phone beeped and he answered. "Yeah Soph."

Parker moved around the bar to the back stairs and tapped him on the shoulder once. He'd follow her when he was ready. Besides, this was just a pit stop to give him a break from driving. They hadn't been able to secure a flight to Starling that would get them there any faster without Hardison there manipulating the system. Plus, the driving made Eliot feel like he was doing something. If she were really honest it felt good to do something for him. At least she still felt like she knew him.

Parker reached the penthouse floor and took in the familiar hallway and door to her second-second home. She stepped to the door where the optical recognition scanner normally sat at eye level.

Hardison's voice welcomed her in a pleasing British accent and the door unlocked. She reached for the ear piece that would normally connect her to him and only heard Eliot’s voice. She jerked her arm back to her side like she’d been burned. She could do this.

Parker could hear the sounds of people living above. Actually, it was Hurley and Peggy with baby Ethan. She hadn't spoken to them for a while after the move to Brooklyn. She made the extra effort to move around quietly. She didn't have time to chat. Hardison's gear was located in the vault beneath the floor. It was simultaneously voice and DNA activated to prevent anyone from trying.

It registered local voice tremors only. No recording would do. It was the same with her breath. She had to be 20 mm away from the scanner to breathe on it. The breath had to be warm and unaffected by chemical components to read properly as Parker or anyone from the team. Hardison liked to boast that it was theft-proof and Parker liked to remind him that nothing was, but she had to admit that without her physically there no one could open it.

"Back away."

Parker was ashamed to admit that the man caught her unawares and tangled up in her own thoughts. Her fingers moved reflexively as she pushed herself up from the floor. Parker chalked it up to her emotional equilibrium feeling off balance. If Archie could see her now he’d make her run drills until she collapsed.

“It’s not nice to break into other people’s apartments,” Parker said. A few feet behind her a gun cocked and below her Eliot abruptly disconnected his call with Sophie.

“Funny, coming from the world’s greatest thief and a former spy,” the man replied. Parker rolled her eyes and spun around confidently ready to play the best keep away game of her life.

“I’m coming Parker,” Eliot’s growl tickled her ear the same time the door slammed open. The man make the mistake of taking his eyes off her for one moment and she was already halfway across the room in the same amount of time it took for Eliot to engage him.

The intruder had already lost his gun in the fight and Parker wasted no time in disassembling it. Meanwhile, Eliot finally had something to hit and was seeming to relish in the adrenaline and the ability to control something other than his anger.

Parker darted back to the safe and got it open before she heard his backup thundering through the restaurant. With Hardison’s “jump off” bag over her shoulder and she slid a few more goodies into her pockets. She was closing the vault when a tall dark haired woman burst through the door with her gun drawn on Eliot, who had their mystery man pinned to the ground.

“Get off him, now,” her voice was smooth as silk but promised she was not bluffing. Eliot stopped for a moment and glared back at the woman. In the darkness, Parker could see Eliot squint.

“Nikita Mears,” Eliot said in a mixed combination of irritation and awe. “Aren’t you a little high profile to go around pulling jobs like this these days?”

“Michael, are you okay?” Nikita asked. Eliot stepped closer to the windows so Michael could get up. He also gave himself both a clean exit from the windows and a path to the door if Nikita weren’t already there.

“Oh, I don’t even get a hello?” Eliot groused.

“Nikita,” Michael rasped. “It’s—Parker, behind you.”

Before she could turn Parker jammed the taser into her back and watched her go down. Parker kicked the gun away and stalked over to Michael.

“I told Division they would never take me back alive. Come after me again and I’ll make sure you have to find a second new headquarters.”

Parker turned on her heel and Eliot followed after her grumbling questions along the way.

“You were a Division agent!? Who the hell else is keeping secrets?” Eliot growled.

“There’s nothing to tell! I was only a recruit for three days!” Parker shouted back. “Would you please stop growling and drive!

 

* * *

 

_Location Unknown._

It was a rare thing for Seymour Birkhoff to admit that he was wrong. So much so that when Sonya awoke in her cell, which was adjacent to his, she expected more pomp from his admission.

They were surrounded by iron save for the bars that separated them. He lay curled up by the bars watching her with an intensity she hadn't seen in years. As if he thought she could disappear right out from under him. Like she could explode into nothing at any moment.  
  
His face was bruised and his right eye sported a brilliant looking shiner. She craned her neck and tried to stretch out but was met with pin needle like resistance. She had been out for a while. It had been long enough for a minor bit of entropy to set in.

  
"Hey beautiful," Seymour said. She smiled up at him hoping to reassure but was met with a grim expression.

  
"Who and for how long?" The last she had remembered they were stretched across their couch drinking wine. Their flat in London had just been redone and their security was being updated in the morning. He called their date night living dangerously.

Their door had blown off its hinges and they were surrounded before they could reach for their guns. She fought the injection, but the chemical compound hit her like a freight train. Sonya cradled her head as a headache began to form.

"My guess is 48 hours. We were moved twice. I saw night following daylight and night again. I'm not sure who."

"What happened to your face?  They didn't drug you?"

"They did but thanks to my early Division training I'm not as susceptible. Amanda's little mind games did something good for once."

"Oh, Seymour. You didn't."

"They kept trying to separate us. I told them it would be over my dead body."

"You could have been killed." Sonya reached through the bars to stroke the back of his hand. Her fingers rested on his single platinum band.

They shared a glance and he nodded slowly. Her other hand rested against her stomach. Seymour shook his head at her and she was relieved by one signal but worried by the other.

The beacon was up and running according to Seymour. Their friends would arrive to rescue them. The problem was that she had just become a liability to them all.

"At least they let us keep our rings," she said.

"How generous," he said. He snorted and shook his head. "Hey, what does this place look like to you?"

It was Sonya's turn to snort. "A prison. Seymour are you sure you're okay?"

Birkhoff shot her a look that had no heat behind it but made her smile anyway. He was just under her skin like that. 

From a distance, someone shouted. The sounds of a struggle weren't hard to single out. The stranger in pain sounded more male as they came closer. The voices were muffled but the sound of a door creaking open and closed were unmistakable."There goes the neighborhood," he quipped.  Sonya eased herself into a sitting position despite her husband's whispered protests.

"There goes the neighborhood," he quipped.  Sonya eased herself into a sitting position despite her husband's whispered protests.

"Hello? Can you understand me?"

There was no answer.

"Knock once for yes and twice for no. Can you do that?"

"These walls have to be several feet thick. They would have to knock very loud on their side," Seymour said.

"It's worth a try," She said. They waited and it reminded her of when she hid out in London waiting in their safe house for word that Amanda had been taken out. Seconds seemed like minutes and for all she knew another day had passed.

"Even if they do answer," Seymour said. "How can we trust them?"

She couldn't blame him. Their very nature as hackers and ex-division training made them suspicious. She suspected that was the more likely culprit and reason for their loneliness. Who could you really trust beyond yourself?

"You don't have to trust them. Trust me."

"You know I do."

"Then trust me, alright? Right now we need information and since we don't have a computer we need to use the only source we have."

"It feels too convenient," he argued. Sonya rolled her eyes.

"Well it does! It's just like BioShock. They stick you in a room and lead you by suggestion. The only way out is through the only unlocked door and down the unblocked stairway."

"Well there's no way out otherwise," Sonya reminded him gently. "So, we play along until there's a better option. Unless you have an alternative plan you have yet to announce? "

She gestured to the wall. He stared at her wide-eyed and she knew she had won. With a raised eyebrow and a grim smile she turned back to the wall.

Sometime later a knock sounded once. She was listening so closely that she nearly shouted when she heard it. Seymour had long since pulled himself up to a sitting position with a great effort he had tried to keep from her. She added bruised ribs to his list of injuries.

"It's ok to gloat," he said with a heavy and painful huff.

"As for our other wager?" She asked.

"That's debatable."

"Are you injured?" Sonya continued her line of questioning.

One knock. Then two.

"Yes and no?" Sonya asked.

 One knock.

 "Do you know who put you here?" Sonya asked.

 One knock sounded.

"Do you know where we are?" Sonya asked.  There was silence for the most part. There was the odd scuffle here and there but nothing from their neighbor.

"And now someone is going to open a door," Birkhoff said. He wasn't too off base. If they were playing a video game that was exactly what would happen but it was too predictable. And that was why she twisted around so quickly when her door was unlatched and swung open.

It was the heavy sort with bolts to slide into the doorframe. She didn't want to alarm Seymour anymore than necessary but he was already pulling himself up. His face pressed up against the bars dividing him.

"Mrs. Birkhoff, step forward. Take your time." The voice was disguised into a garbled mess and for the life of her she couldn't figure out where the speakers were considering there was no one in front of her. In fact it seemed the door opened on its own despite how heavy it was.

She glanced at Seymour and was unsurprised to find him warily regarding the open space before her.

"What do you want," she asked. "You're obviously watching or listening from somewhere."

The door remained open without a response. 

"If you know about us then you know of our reputations and who our friends are. You know that they're coming for us and they're not going to be happy. You took us for something. What is it?" Sonya said. "I'm not going anywhere without my husband in case you're wondering."

The door abruptly slammed shut the exact moment Birkhoff's door swung open. The electric buzz was more prominent. She half expected the same silence from before. Birkhoff knew better. He looked at her wide eyed with fear.

"No, I remember where I saw these rooms, now. When I mapped out Amanda's compound in Ana Lucia. Don't look Sonya, turn around," he said through his teeth.

His knuckles whitened against the bars when heavy footsteps echoed off their walls. Two men entered the room swiftly and without warning slammed Seymour's head against the bars. Without thinking she moved towards the bars and pulled herself up, slipping only slightly on Birkhoff's blood.

"No! Bring him back!" She shouted. There was just that silence again. Not even the sound of boots against the ground or the slide of unconscious feet across the dirt. Nothing but the sound of her own breathing. The door remained open for what seemed like eternity until a tall muscle bound man carried a thin blonde woman in and dropped her unceremoniously on the ground.

The woman coughed and groaned through her pain.  She rolled onto her side and managed to prop herself up on her bruised forearms. Her face was half covered in dirt and blood that she more smeared than wiped off with the arm of her sweater. It was then that the familiarity set in and Sonya's eyes narrowed. Different hair and clothes but it didn't change much of anything.

"Felicity?" She ground out between clenched teeth. "Watchman?"

"Hi there, Whisper," Felicity said between deep breaths. "Sonya is that really you?"

"Why the hell are you here?" Sonya asked. Felicity grimaced and pushed herself up from the floor. She was barefoot like Sonya and Birkhoff had been when they were brought in.

"We were never supposed to be in contact with each other ever again. That was the deal!" Sonya said lowly.

"I know," Felicity snapped back. She brushed the dirt from her bare legs and strode toward the bars with a limp at her left ankle. "Chaos is also here. I saw Shadow Walker just a moment ago so I'm assuming you already know about him. Oh, that's right, you would know considering you married him. Thanks for the invite."

 Sonya rolled her eyes. "Well, we won't be here for long."

"Funny, neither will I."

"You really have no idea why we were taken?" Sonya asked after a momentary pause.

"Not really. We made a lot of enemies back then. For all I know it could be the Bolivian government or Egypt," Felicity said. "I was interrogated earlier by a guy in a suit, Greg Sherman, he called himself "The Mako" if that means anything to you."

"Either way, when my friends get here, he's toast," Felicity said and then stopped. "You said you were getting out of here? How?"

 "Reinforcements," Sonya said. "Better than yours."

 Felicity laughed. "I doubt that. Mine are more than a little deadly band of spies. One of them will literally run circles around them."

 "Did I mention that I still don't like or trust you in the slightest?" Sonya asked.

Felicity waltzed back to the furthest corner of the room and eased herself down to the floor. She sat cross-legged and rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists and just smiled. With the glasses and high ponytail she looked as innocuous as ever. Sonya was just glad that she knew the former mastermind better.

"You don't need to remind me of your insurmountable trust issues. They're what landed you in Division in the first place."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	3. Friendlies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This doesn't make sense. Alec's files indicated that the vigilantes in Starling were friendlies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while but work has been a bitch!

Hardison awoke for the second time in two days on a dirt floor. The smaller cell was new, though. There was a single blue bottle of something, probably murky and brown, to his left with a power bar next to it and a wall of metal bars to his right. The tungsten lights above flickered in the adjoining cell and increased his chances of another headache. He was just thankful it wouldn't be a result of another beating.

He was suddenly glad that Eliot had tried to teach him to fight, if only so he knew how to take a punch. Eliot. It hadn't been the first time since his capture that Hardison's thoughts had drifted to him or Parker. If Parker were here she'd smile like a mad woman, kiss him, and then proceed to pick the lock. She'd open the door and there would be Eliot, hair stuck to his cheeks, chest heaving, with his lips twitching to yell at him and arms ready to yank them both close. Hardison could practically smell the sweat and hear the rumble of his voice as much as he could feel Parker's wiry yet strong limbs wrap around him as much for her comfort as his.

If Eliot were with him he would tell him to sit up and eat. Keeping your strength was key for a moment of opportunity for escape He would only get one. He groaned through bruised ribs and wheezed as he tried to pull himself upright. He just hoped they were far away from this. He hoped that they'd never find him here. But there was really no chance of that. Parker and Eliot would find him no matter what the cost, just like he would spend every waking moment trying to find them if they were lost. Especially if Greg Sherman had him.

Hardison inched over to the bottle of murk and picked up his food rations. He peeled back the plastic and glanced up at the camera over the only door and waved before nibbling at his food. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that Sherman was out and about. He also knew that he couldn't predict when or how he would come after them so he had prepared. Sherman would hit them swiftly and without notice like a good thief wronged by another crew.

He was only part of the reason Hardison had prepared so many contingencies, Dubenich had been another piece of it. Before yesterday good old Victor Dubenich had been their only enemy to find them and he had wrought havoc on Nate. But it wasn't until after he had ended up in a box beneath the ground in a graveyard that Alec Hardison really pushed himself. His family had nearly lost him and in that they would have lost their protection. Neither of them could maintain his system nor could any of them create more algorithms to replace the outdated ones.

So, he spent every waking hour building Safeguard. Every time someone looked for one of them up they would be redirected over and over again to dozens of blank profiles and a few of their more permanent aliases. Every search triggered an alert and proximity warning that they were too close to previous marks or needed to move. Upon his death, a code he could enter from any computer or phone line through challenge responses the system would give the team a final batch of aliases and any previous ones, including their real names would be erased from all databases. Parker, Eliot, Nate, and Sophie wouldn't exist. It would be his final gift to them. The only way to protect them for whatever their next choice was. Each of the new aliases was legitimate and came complete with a job and long history that couldn't be disputed with money from his accounts that had been passed through dozens of shell companies and investments. It was perfect. They just had to choose it. And they would choose it. He had tailored each of their new identities to their proclivities.

They'd be together at least. Hardison took one final bite of the cardboard flavored bar and folded the rest of the plastic over what was left. He took a swig of the water, which was faintly flavored, and put his back against the wall. He hadn't thought much about why they had moved him again. He saw one other person dragged in before him with a brown sack over their face. From the skirt alone he guessed it was a caucasian woman. He had to keep reminding himself that Parker and Sophie were both wearing pants when he last saw them and there would be little to no reason why someone would switch their clothes. He would lose several minutes panicking over it while one of Sherman's hitters pummeled him.

Then he'd remind himself of one of Eliot's captive stories. How they'd beat him and torture him to talk but could never figure out why or how he could stay quiet. It was the calm place, Eliot had said. He went to a visual in his head of his parent's house and riding horses with Amy as a child. He pulled up the smell of freesias in his mind to mask the smell of his own blood. It wasn't that he couldn't feel the hits or burns. The pain was near blinding but he thought of something better and shut everything else out.

So, Hardison tried. He thought of his Nana's smile, Parker's snorting giggles, and Eliot's cooking. It had worked for awhile. He was quiet during most of his time tied to the chair in their control room. He even counted his steps and turns from there to his new room and drew a map from that and the amount of bad guys he saw (27 men, 200 steps, 6 right turns and 4 left) like Eliot had taught him to do. He examined the Takhumi security system from the control room to his cell like Parker would. All of it had kept him occupied until now. Until he had to really look at the room and realize how narrow it was and how low the ceiling seemed. His fingers tapped against his knees absently as a last resort.

He tried to breathe like Parker and disappear into his thoughts like Eliot but none of it worked. He was just Alec Hardison stuck in a cell. He absently hoped between deep breaths that thy'd be proud of him if they knew how long he lasted.

___________

A car ride from Boston to Starling City should take 4 hours. Parker was dead set on making it in 2. With Hardison's custom GPS system guiding her through back roads and, her personal favorite feature, the scanner mode that alerted her to nearby speed traps she felt confident.

Getting there wasn't the problem. Getting there in one piece was the real challenge. She and Eliot hadn't stopped arguing since Boston. They had long since turned their earbuds off. Nate and Sophie could contact them by their cell phones, which were wired into the stereo. So far their argument jumped from her speeding to his brooding to her lack of explanation about her past with Division and around again. Parker shouted and Eliot growled until they were silently stewing about the other.

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel hard when she jerked them to the right and they ended up on the shoulder of a highway in the early evening.

"What the hell Parker?" Eliot growled. He would never raise his voice at her. Hardison, sometimes, to shake him or get his attention, but, never her and never with any actual malice. Even at his most annoyed and outraged. He would go for a walk or run or hit something. Then again Hardison usually was the buffer between them. More than that he usually made them retreat to their separate corners and calm down.

"Outside. NOW." Parker growled at him. Without another word she slipped out and slammed her car door behind her.

She stalked around back fully expecting him to meet her there. With an eye roll and a string of curses she had picked up from the man himself she rounded the van to his side only to slam into his chest. Eliot just rolled his eyes and held his hands up. Not to catch her but to concede or pacify. Parker exploded.

"Out with it!" She snapped

"With what Parker!? We need to get back on the road."

"No, we're not getting back on the road until you get whatever this is off your chest. So get it over with."

"Why, Parker? It’s not going to help right now!”

"Because I need Eliot Spencer right now!” Parker shouted at him.

Eliot rocked back on his heels and Parker took a deep breath to contain herself. Sometimes her instincts still told her to run but she was rooted to the spot. She tried to think of what Nate would do, how he would spin things, and just stopped. If Nate were here he’d drag Eliot back to the van. If Nate were here Eliot would just listen. Because he wasn’t in love with Nate. Parker grimaced. Eliot wasn’t some piece of a lock that she could maneuver around. He was hers, theirs, and he wasn’t a means to an end. She played with her pockets and tried to figure out an answer for him.

“Eliot Spencer is focused. He doesn't pull punches and keeps himself aware at all times. This guy in front of me is holding back! I can't take it anymore and it's going to get him killed and I can't take that either!" Parker said.

"We don't have time for this!" Eliot said and made his way back to his side Parker stood with her mouth wide and hands trembling. She hadn't even acknowledged that she had thrown the keys until Eliot was back in front of her sputtering in rage. She had to remind herself that didn’t matter what Nate would do. She wasn’t Nate. She wasn’t Hardison but he helped to make them work.

"We're going to make time. Hardison needs us at our best. So let's clear the air."

Eliot huffed and puffed for a moment until Parker dropped down onto the bumper and planted her feet firmly on the ground and made a 'bring it gesture'. And then it was his turn to explode into rage that she would never admit to his face that barely fazed her. She couldn’t be afraid of him.

"How could you never tell us that you were Division, Parker?" He sounded more hurt than angry.

"The same way you never told us about Moreau. The same way Hardison never told us about Felicity Smoak. We don't like talking about our pasts and the truth is we're not all that proud of the things we've done."

The air seemed to go out of him and he knelt in front of her.

"Look. I know this isn't easy. But we can't break down about this. If you're angry, tell me. There's nothing you can do that would break me. Well, except for dying. I'm not stupid. I know you're not unbreakable. You're like me. All it takes is one bad day or one misstep. Hardison needs us to not do that. He needs us alive." She said.

Eliot nodded. "I know I don't have the right to demand to know about your past. I just can't protect y'all if I can't see all the angles."

"Then we just work with what we have."

"It's not just that, Parker."

"Then what is it?"

"I know you think that I haven't been at my best through this. You're wrong. I see things more sharply than you think."

"Ok?"

"I can't shake the feeling that this is going to get messy. This isn't going to end well, with us just taking Hardison home, and it's different from anything we've faced. There are already too many moving pieces for us to catch them all.”

"Hey, let me worry about those, " Parker said. She forced a smile that made him return one of his own. It didn’t quite reach his eyes and for a moment she thought about pushing him further. There’s something else he’d not saying. Some secret he’s keeping under the surface. It’s acknowledged between them.

"You just focus on being Mr. Punchy."

Eliot scowled again but it was what Parker considered one of his happy scowls. Later, after they found the keys ten feet from the van, they buckled into their seats and Parker gunned the engine. Eliot looked more like himself. His eyes were more narrowed and scanned the area ahead of them. His muscles were taught in preparation to spring.

"Let's go get our man, "Parker said. Eliot's lips twitched upwards into his happy smile scowl.

_______

Boston Safe House—

"You planted the tracker?" Alex asked Michael as he pressed an ice pack to his face.

She hated to even ask him but had a feeling it was his ego that was more bruised than his face. Nikita sat beside him at the bar beside their kitchen. Blood covered white Italian marble. Nikita hunched over the bar with a heat pack slung over her back. She hadn't spoken since they stumbled back into the hastily established safe house over an hour prior. Alex supposed having a bloodied Michael have to carry her back after being tasered was ego bruising for her too.

"Yeah," Michael replied. He rolled his one good eye.

"I don't get it. You're a former spy from the most ruthless group in the world. AND you have a titanium hand that can crush bones. You should have pummeled what's his face." Alex said.

The door opened and the all except Michael swiveled around on their barstools, guns drawn on Sam who held two bags in his hands. He held up his hands in mock surrender. They sighed and lowered their guns immediately. Nikita scooped up her fallen heat pack and slung it back over her shoulder.

"Jumpy. I guess things didn't go well downtown," Sam said then glanced at Michael.

"Ambush? How many guys?"

"One guy. One Parker," Michael answered.

Sam dropped both bags."Parker? As in Parker Parker? The Parker! Alex we're going."

"Not the dinner," Alex groaned. She slid off her stood and scooped up the bag of now smashed Thai food.

Sam grabbed her arm. "If Parker is in on this we're out."

"It's adorable that you think you can speak for me. We're not leaving Birkhoff and Sonya to die, " Alex said sweetly then patted his cheek.

"How do you know they're not already dead?" Sam asked.

Alex set the food on the counter and picked up her tablet. After a few swipes and taps she turned it around for Sam to see. Five individual bars ran the length of the screen showing ekg heartbeats. Alex tapped the top two labeled Sonya and Birkhoff.

"Whoa. Cool,"he took the tablet and sat down.

"Who's Parker, Michael? Nikita spoke for the first time since the mission went awry. She sat up straight as she could and trained her gaze on him. Alex called it briefing mode. Whatever mirth had filled Alex was now gone. She leaned on the bar and stared at Michael.

"Yeah, what your wife said." Alex said.

"Parker is a former recruit,"Michael began.

"And she's fucking crazy. Like beyond Amanda crazy but in a cute disarming package."Sam interjected.

Alex glanced at him. Her hair fell over one shoulder as she tried to not seem concerned.

"Cute?"

"And clinically insane!" Sam reiterated.

"She's the only person to escape Division alive beside Nikita." Michael said. Nikita's eyebrows shot up and Alex knew better than to confuse ego with concern there. Michael took her hand and squeezed.

"She was recruited in the fall of 2003," Michael began. "Nikita was on an away mission in Belgrade for a month. Our security advisor was doing repairs to the security grid so we were on lock down for little more than 48 hours after she arrived."

"How did they find her?" Nikita asked.

“In Central Park. She was asleep on a park bench when a police officer woke her up to kick her out of the park. She attacked him. Bit and scratched his face before heading toward Central Park West. He chased after her and caught her in the street, before he could cuff her he was struck by on coming traffic," Michael said.

"Was she hit as well?" Alex asked.

"This is where things get interesting," Sam said. "Parker was not injured but the motorist that hit him indicated that she pushed the officer into traffic."

"The officer died that night and when the cops finally caught up to her she was unharmed. They charged her with involuntary manslaughter and that's where I came in," Michael said.

"But Percy and Amanda ended up electing to cancel her. She was too feral and far gone for either of them to contain her. She just made the first move and it paid off."

"She blew them up, Nikita," Sam said.

"How did you end up knowing? You, er Owen, were kept out of Division." Alex asked him.

"I wasn't a guardian yet. I was coming in from the cold that week and Percy put me on her case. He was furious and when I couldn't track her down he relegated me to Guardian duty."

"Did Owen ever get close?" Nikita asked.

"He did better. He found her. She was holed up in an abandoned hotel in New Mexico six months later and left a noticeable trail."

"You let her go,"Alex said in disbelief. Nikita glared at him.

"Look. At the time he was beginning to doubt division. The amount of clean ups he had to do were killing Owen. I remember it. David was his last kill and Parker had a big part in that. It broke him and Percy redirected him."

"Why'd you let her go? Why risk lying to Percy?"Michael asked

"Owen didn't remember his past but he recognized some part of her. He just couldn't do it. That and she shot a full clip of an Uzi at him before diving out of the window."

"Like he knew her? Do you know her?"

"Not from my past. No."

"Ok, what about the other one? The guy with her?" Alex asked.

"Eliot Spencer. One of the most dangerous hitters in the world," Michael said.

"Fuck,” Sam said.

"Fuck," Nikita followed.

"Fuck," Alex groaned.

"Wait you know him?" They all responded at once.  
______

Starling City

"Red to Sin. Red to Sin come in," Roy's voice crackled over the com system. Sin's response came back garbled. Sara did what he could to boost the signal but they were dealing with interference all over the city.

So far team Arrow had divided their efforts between Argus with Diggle and Lyla, the Starling City Police Department with the Arrow, the League of Assasins for her, and the glades with Roy and Sin. She had already made contact with Nyssa and put her on the trail of the kidnappers. Ra's was displeased but didn't stop her pursuit. He sent a honor guard with her for protection, though she hardly needed it.

With that done all she had left was time and only half the know how to operate Felicity's system. In between updates from the team she replayed the last few days on a constant loop. She hadn't slept. Oliver hadn't either. They mostly sat on opposite sides of the cave while Sara tried to decipher their girl's beacon code. The words that passed between them were curt. They had said all that needed to be said on that night.

They had crunched through broken glass deciding what to do next while sirens blared around them. She could still smell Felicity's perfume mixed with sweat and gun power. It filled her nostrils and overrode her senses until there was nothing left but the faint sting of plastic biting into her skin. Sara huffed and swept the bits of the optical mouse away. She unplugged and replaced it in time for the computer to ding happily.

The algorithms that had been running automatically since they entered the cave hours ago had ceased. Another program opened up a Skype window. The webcam on her end didn't activate and it wasn't until the video looped that Sara realized it was prerecorded.

A spacey sort of music played in the background and a dark skinned man sat at a desk eating pad thai and absent mindedly clicking on things. He talked animatedly for a few moments before pausing and warning her that there was water in the basement and the pilot light was out.

"Hey guys," Sara said. "I think I have something but it doesn't make sense."

She replayed the message twice before Roy and Sin responded.

"I don't know, Canary. It sounds like a bunch of babbling on a voicemail,"Roy said.

"But the last bit reminds me of--"

"It's a challenge code,"Oliver answered for her.

Sara rolled her eyes. "I was getting there!"

"Didn't seem like it," he answered.

Another program beeped. A window popped up showing surveillance of the private underground garage that led to the Arrowcave. Oliver pulled into his space near the door. Sara closed the pop up window and pushed away from the desk. She was still dressed in her leather Canary suit from her earlier patrol.

She grabbed her bo staff, wig, and mask on her way to the door.

Heat rose to her face as she heard the door open and slam shut. Oliver's booted footfalls, heavy only when he wanted to be heard, were slower than normal. She grabbed her bag and decided reflexively in the silence between them that it would be easier to get ready on the way.

Her hands clenched around the bar and she pushed away from the steel work table and only came face to face with Oliver still dressed in his Arrow gear. He stood a careful two feet away.

"What?" She said. His face was a mixture of deceptive calm and a burning intensity that came from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was less icy then it had been lately. He reached for her and Sara skirted around him.

"Sara!" His voice went soft at her name and Sara bared down on him coming closer than she had been allowed to in days.

"Look, I know you blame me, Ollie, but this isn't helping!"

"I'm trying to fix it!" Oliver said."I don't blame you. I never said that I did!"

"You never have to. You just look at me like--"

"Like what?"

"Like you hate me! You look at me like I just let her get kidnapped!"

Oliver took a step towards her and Sara closed the distance.

"Tell me I'm wrong! They brought enough men to keep both of us out of the way."

"I did blame you Sara. I was--am angry but-".

"Guys!" Roy's voice crackled over the intercom. "Canary? Arrow? Come in!"

Sara stepped away from him and engaged her comm.

"I'm getting crazy comm interference on the outskirts of the glades! We were headed back but it seems to be following umf" The signal became distorted. Sara flopped down in front of the workstation. The microphones scratched and wailed.

"GPS is scrambled but I have their last location!"

"Good. Let's go!"Oliver said.

 

\---

"You wanna drop the bow, son?" Eliot asked the kid in front of him. Parker circled behind their new friend with her taser in hand.

He could have done without anymore interruptions in their search but he figured that they wouldn't be on the right track if there weren't. They had only been in the city for a couple of hours, anyway.

The kid didn't lower his bow. He was dressed in black and red leather and wore a mask. He looked like something straight out of one of Alec's comic books.

"You get lost on your way to one of those geek conventions?" Eliot growled.

"What's your business in Starling ?" He asked in response. His voice was mechanical. Eliot would bet his house that he was using a scrambler to disguise himself. And that meant that this definitely wasn't his first rodeo. He did this often.

"What's it to you?" Eliot responded and then let his accent thicken into a drawl. "Are you the sheriff in these parts?

"I'm not going to ask you again," He replied.

"Then we have a problem, son."

Roy released the arrow directed at Eliot's chest. Eliot dodged it and a few more as he ran forward. At such a close range Roy was forced to only use his bow as a melee weapon. He didn't get the chance when Parker tased him.

The kid collapsed in a heap.

"He looks like one of Hardison's characters,"Parker said, voicing his earlier thoughts. She knelt down and began to tie him up.

"He's crazy." Eliot growled. "Where's his friend?"

"Right here!"

The small girl swung a piece of pipe at Parker and realized her mistake too late to prevent herself from.being tased. Parker dragged her closer to their hooded madman and began to restrain them with a piece of rope that he hadn't seen her carry. She smiled at him and waggled her fingers when she finished.

For a moment he grinned back, able to forget for a moment that this wasn't a job. He reached towards his ear to talk to Hardison but dropped his arm to his side. Parker frowned and just as he reached for her she turned away from him.

"This doesn't make sense. Alec's files indicated that the vigilantes in Starling were friendlies."

Eliot's lips tugged up at her use of his terminology. He had to agree.

"The ones in the file wore green and black. The woman was taller and blonde," Eliot said.

"If they’re with them we need to get out of this alley. They'll be on their way and--" Eliot stopped short at the sound of a bowstring being pulled.

The tight snap and release of the arrow from above made every muscle in him tense. Parker's eyes went wide but at one shared glance they were tight with focus.

"This is a kill box!" Eliot shouted to her. Parker nodded and without a word they turned tail and ran.

"We can't stay down here!" Eliot said. He dodged another arrow and pushed Parker back against the wall, shielding her.

"Down or up?"She asked. Eliot rolled his eyes and shook his head. He jerked a thumb towards an abandoned motor cycle and Parker grinned.


	4. Trust.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hands where I can see them!" Michael shouted. The Canary just smiled at him. 
> 
> "I'd love to see you try and make me," she answered.

"I'm coming up on them now." Alex said. She and Owen took up the forward position. At least if either if them saw her they wouldn't immediately spook. Owen would hang way back as her back up and Nikita and Michael would take up the rear, cutting off an immediate escape.

"Do you really think," Owen started and then paused. "Nah."

"What? “Alex asked. "Did you see something? "

"No just going over Birkhoff's files on this place. "

"Not a whole lot to consider. '"

"What do you make of these vigilantes? "

Alex laughed. She wore a pair of Birkhoff's comm earbuds. To anyone else she looked like a girl talking on her phone. A good strong yank would disconnect the cables but leave the bud intact.

"I like the leather but not the crazy." She chuckled.

"You're kidding," Sam said.

"I wouldn't mind you in a leather jumpsuit." Alex said.

She resisted the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of his jaw hitting the pavement. It was just as well that she didn't. She had arrived at the last known location of their tracker, at the docks. A sleek black motorcycle gleamed under the street lamps. Draped across was a black denim jacket.

"Alex?" Sam asked.

"I'm here. But where are you?" She said. She added a flirtatious giggle and looked around. If they were still here they had eyes on her. They probably found the tracking device. She imagined every way that this could go bad. Eliot Spencer wasn't just some goon. Out of all of them she was the least likely to be killed on-site. If he even recognized her. She had been eight the last time she had seen him. Besides his partner thoroughly enjoyed making things go boom.

"Alex do you have eyes on the targets?" Nikita asked her. The other woman's voice cut through her doubts. Alex took a deep breath before answering. She scanned the area again. There were several pieces of equipment they could be hiding in. Not to mention the large storage containers.

"No," She responded.

"I'm coming closer. I can't do anything back here." Sam said.

"No. We're close enough to back her up. Stay put on the perimeter," Nikita said.

"Can you hear that?" Michael asked over the line.

Alex strained to hear.

"Checking now, “Michael said. Alex glanced over the bike again and saw tell tale signs of Division training. She ran her fingers across the bike’s shiny exterior and picked up the jacket. She would guess at least the bike was stolen and there was nothing in the jacket pockets save for the transmitting tracker. Birkhoff had designed them to look similar in size to a Lego block. If captured in the Division days it was easily dismissed as a piece of errant plastic.

She dropped the coat and glanced at the bike where the key was still in the ignition. She trailed her fingers down the side and ran across a raised symbol. She dropped into a crouch to get a closer look.

"Alex, what are you doing?" Sam asked.

"We've got company," She whispered. "I know who owns the bike."

"It's the Arrow. "

"Alex get to cover now," Nikita hissed.

"Hold on!" Michael whispered. "Targets in sight."

"South east of you position, Nikita."

"Alex and Sam bring up the rear. You were right. I also have eyes on the Arrow." Michael said.

"Now," Nikita commanded. Alex nearly leapt out of her crouch when she heard Sam behind her.

They moved together, weaving in parallel paths through equipment and shipping containers. Alex heard hissing and shouting. The unmistakable sound of impact a body makes when hitting metal came across the comms.

Nikita and Michael were right on them. She could see them ahead taking cover behind the bowed arm of a tractor. Nikita spotted them and signaled them forward on the ground. The sounds grew louder and more painful. Bones fractured and broke. Metal hit metal. A gap between the containers revealed two men throwing punches. Eliot Spencer looked older than she remembered but not by much. A few pieces of gray danced across his temples. He was still longhaired, muscled, and wild with furious focus. His eyes jumped from each attack, keeping an eye on someone else. A female shout distracted him enough to be struck down.

"Go Parker, go!" Eliot shouted.

The Arrow took his eyes off him for one second. Alex already knew that was all it would take. She had seen it once herself. The Arrow brought up his bow and notched an arrow to shoot just as Eliot wrapped his hands around the bow. He used the momentum to plant his foot in the other man's solar plexus. Eliot twisted and flung the Arrow several feet away. Alex watched the older man sit up slowly. He glanced to where the vigilante lay prone. He ran his short fingers across his face and shook himself once. His head shot up at the same time she gasped. His face was bloodied but alone he smiled. He stood quickly and moved towards her. Alex slid back along the container.

"Alex you've gotta get back" Sam reminded her.

"I've got two women on the move. The one called Canary and Parker," Michael said. "I'm in pursuit."

Across the docks a female scream halted Eliot's movement. His eyes widened as if remembering something. He took off like a shot between the containers. Alex let out a breath and stepped out into the open.

"They have no idea we're here," Alex said.

"It's probably for the best right now," Nikita said.

"Nikita, I'm blown." Michael's voice crackled over the comms.

"So much for the element of surprise." Sam muttered.

"They know Michael is here. Not us. Michael hang on. Alex move in on them from the North and Sam from the west. I'll take east." Nikita ordered. The line screeched and then cut off immediately.

"Go now."

******

 

Parker hated leaving Eliot's side. She resisted the urge to look back and just moved. At least he only had one vigilante to deal with. The Canary wasn't too far behind her. In the scuffle her hair had come undone and the sweat coated strands stuck to her neck. She banked left and went up, scaling the container with ease.

She glanced back and saw a shadow move, too tall and thick for the Canary. For a moment she sucked in a breath and looked for Eliot. The man was too well dressed. The man from the apartment in Boston. The container rattled and Canary replaced her view of him.

Michael approached her and if Parker had any more room she would have taken a step back. The Canary threw the first punch at the sight of his gun, which went skidding behind him. Michael was just as Parker remembered him. Fast and technically proficient. He wasn't fighting to kill, that much was obvious, but The Canary was. As a much smaller fighter it was easy to fear for her but that notion was squashed in seconds even without her Bo staff she hit harder and maneuvered around him easily. His face was still bandaged from his fight with Eliot and he went down fast on his back. The Canary had her foot placed precariously on his throat pressing down ever so slightly until Parker stepped forward. The Canary swung around and picked up her staff in one fluid motion before Parker could speak.

"Hi there." The Canary spat. She moved to throw a punch that Parker dodged.

"Hey yourself," Parker said. She was back at the edge again and smiled sweetly at her enemy.

"What do you want?" Parker said almost conversationally. She kept her body still to contrast the nervous energy of the other woman. She practically vibrated her itch to inflict pain. Not that Parker was afraid. At least not for herself. The sound of fighting had long ceased behind them and both women twitched with the need to check on their partner. The Canary with the twitch of her lips and Parker with a sharp intake of breath.

"Who the hell you are and what you're doing in my city?" The Canary said slowly and for a moment Parker could almost feel like Nate or what she thought Nate felt when he stared down a mark. The combination of her thief thought process and Nate's cold read of people blended together neatly. There was a little bit of Sophie in there, too. In the way she noticed the redness of the woman's eyes before she took in the white knuckled grip she had on her weapon.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and believe that's not your real voice. Just like the other guy. And just like the other guy you seem to think you own this place," Parker said.

"We keep it safe. It's our territory. I'm not going to ask you again."

"I'm looking for someone. A woman named Felicity Smoak. We need her help," Parker said. She watched the sharp breath and thought the woman might snap her Bo staff in half. Parker took a step back. She had already calculated the distance to the ground and was sure she'd make it down safely before The Canary could get off a single hit.

"What a coincidence. We're looking for her, too," a familiar male voice shouted out from the nearest container. A quick glance told her it was the green vigilante aiming an arrow straight at her back. Behind The Canary a gun cocked and The Canary whipped around to find the same man who broke into the Leverage Boston safe house.

"Hands up ladies. I just want to talk," Michael said.

"Friend of yours?" The Canary asked.

"Not really, he kind of broke into our safe house and tried to kill us earlier tonight," Parker said.

"I just want answers. What do you know about Felicity Smoak's disappearance?" The Canary asked.

"I didn't know she disappeared. I just know that she sent our partner a message before he was abducted," Parker told her.

"Hands where I can see them!" Michael shouted. The Canary just smiled at him.

"I'd love to see you try and make me," she answered.

"Hell, I'd love to see that," Parker said. "You might have a little bit of a problem though."

She nodded at his chest where a bright red dot had just appeared. She tried to follow the line of sight but couldn't find the gun.

"I could say the same to you," Nikita shouted from the next stack of containers. She had her gun trained on Parker. The younger woman had to laugh what with Eliot prowling around behind her. Nikita caught on a second too late and Eliot was on her container, minutes away from the sort of thing he swore he'd never do again.

"Is anyone hungry?" Parker asked absently. Several heads turned and each of them looked at her in surprise or in Michael and Nikita's case caution.

"I know I'm here for answers and I'm guessing so are all of you. So…we have a choice, we can kill each other or we can get answers," Parker said slowly. It wasn't how Nate would do it but she let out a small breath of relief when Michael and Nikita shared a glance and lowered their weapons. The Canary nodded up at the Arrow and he lowered his bow. The red light on Michael's chest disappeared.

"Eliot?" Parker called out. Nikita whipped around to see him still standing tense. He nodded at Parker and strode past the assassin and climbed over to Parker's side.

"Alright, good. What's open around here?"

 

******

 

"What do you think of them? " Oliver asked. They had just been led to the party room at Big Belly Burger. Normally used for children's birthday parties, it boasted neon pink, green, and blue balloons over the red paint. There were children hanging onto the balloons and at a closer inspection there were little cheeseburgers in the children's hands.

Sara trailed her fingers across the painted wall. She remembered having birthdays here with Laurel and Ollie, Tommy, and Thea. The boys would make fun of her for wanting to go into the ball pit in the back. She could practically smell the confectionery of sugar and cake. She ran across a chip in the paint and began absently working it with her thumbnail.

Oliver's hand settled on the small of her back and she nearly forgot to breathe. She tried to keep her hands steady but knew she couldn't avoid talking to him. Eventually she would have to turn, look him in the eyes, and tell him that she was only seconds away from crushing that man's larynx. She wanted him to hurt and to see that last look.

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt sick. She liked to tell them that she hated killing for the league. Sometimes she wondered if Oliver picked up on the lie but she always knew when Felicity believed her. Their girl was too trusting but Oliver wasn't.

A deep breath later and Sara had her heart rate under control.

"I'm not sure. We need them right?" Sara said.

"You seem distracted."

"I'm fine," Sara answered lowly.

"Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?" Oliver asked. He leaned on the wall next to her and got in her space.

"No. Like I said. I'm fine. Where are they?" Sara asked.

"I don’t know,” Oliver said. “We agreed on 9 pm. They have a few more minutes. Look at me.”

“I’m gonna go check,” Sara said. She made a move towards the door.

“Dig is in the main dining room keeping watch. Look at me, please,” Oliver said. Sara shook her head.

“He was in the way of getting the information that I needed. The information that we needed,” Sara said and gestured between them.

“You could have killed him. Crushed his larynx and ended this meeting before it ever started-“

“He was in my way and I did what had to be done,” Sara answered him. “Simple as that.”

“Sara--” Oliver began but Sara scoffed before he could continue.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Ollie!” Sara said. “I know you’re waiting for me to explode.”

“That’s not what I’m saying here!”

“Isn’t it? Ever since I turned away from Nyssa and the League for you and Felicity you’ve had me under a microscope. I get it, you think I’m going to…I don’t know. Kill again? You think the impulse is still there,” she said with a tremble in her voice. She stepped away from him with her hand still on the wall for support. So many memories of who she used to be were in this room, this building. She sat down in one of the plastic chairs and smiled down at the tacky plastic balloon print tablecloth.

Oliver covered her hand with his and watched her until she glanced up at his bruised face and not so obvious disguise of a baseball cap and a scarf.

“You have nothing to prove,” Oliver said. “I just wanted you to know that before we started this. We will get her back, your way or my way, I don’t care.”

“Guys, I’ve got movement out here. They’re heading in,” Digg’s voice came over the line.

“Alright,” Sara answered him. “We’re ready.”

 

*****

 

"This place is like one step above McDonald's," Sam groused.Nikita rolled her eyes from the driver's seat.

"We're not really here for the food, “she said. "And even McDonald's is better than your home cooking. I thought you would be excited. "

"Hey, I only tried to cook as a kind gesture, “Sam said. "It was what Owen would do thank you very much."

"At least Owen could make spaghetti," Nikita muttered. "And if you hadn't dropped the Thai food you wouldn't have had to cook."

"I have to agree with Sam. This place is no good, " Alex said. They had circled the building twice and seen three exits and only the front door was completely unobstructed.

"I know. I don't like it either," Nikita said. "If there were a better choice we would be there instead."

Michael parked the car and they ran through a weapons check. They each carried a concealed weapon as a precaution. Nikita imagined some part of Parker's Division training had kicked in. This was a place Amanda would have picked. It played on their humanity. It was at tight space that they couldn't riddle with bullets and where either side would rather not get caught in. There were two cameras in the parking lot but a back exit to a dirt road leading nowhere. It made her skin crawl.

"How are you feeling, Michael?" Nikita asked. He nodded slightly, jostling the bag of ice he held to his throat where a huge bruise had begun to form.

"You want me to kick her ass?" Nikita asked. Michael rolled his eyes and threw up his one normal hand.

"How do you keep getting your ass kicked?" Sam asked.

Sam snickered in the back and Nikita turned around in her seat to face him.

"Do I have to come back there?"

Alex laughed at the actual pure look of terror on Sam's face.

"It was a legitimate question!" Sam said. "These people are pros. The vigilante guy and chick are every bit as good as we are. Isn't anyone else worried about what they might be walking into?"

"Can't be any worse than at the docks," Alex said. "Parker seemed not so murder-y.”

“Well we can hardly judge her can we? Killers judging killers?” Nikita said.  
“ We killed because we had to,” Michael murmured. He dropped the ice pack into the foot of the car.

“And lets not forget that we were under orders or at least we thought we were to kill criminals. Terrorists, even. Some of the work we did was good work at least. She killed.... bystanders...anyone in her way,” Michael said.

“She could have killed Owen. She had a weapon an opportunity but she didn't. She was terrified,” Alex countered.

“Look can we at least acknowledge that she's not our only problem. Eliot Spencer anyone? How can we trust him?” Michael said. “He worked for Moreau and dealt with Ari Tasarov back in the day.”

“Last Birkhoff heard Moreau was in prison in San Lorenzo and Spencer and his team of thieves put him there.” Nikita said. “We're out of options, here and this is our only lead. They said they were missing people, too. I give it an hour and if no one here is satisfied then we move on to the next available lead. The trail is going cold. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Alex said and after a sharp elbow to his side he sputtered out his agreement.

“Michael?” Nikita prodded.

“Agreed,” he said after a beat. “Let’s go.”

 

******

 

Parker normally sat down during briefings. She sat and the boys stood or rather, Eliot always stood up. Always eyeing the clients and the exits. He always kept his back to the walls anticipating an attack and looking for ways to protect similar to how she absently analyzed ways to crack a security system. The smell of the burger place overwhelmed her. It was familiar and comforting but she’d never tell Eliot lest he doubt his own home cooking. She lived out of places like this in New York. Cheap and quick when she didn’t have the stomach for dumpster diving before Archie gave her the tools to get in and out of better places as waitress or catering associate. He taught her to eat for fuel and the better the fuel the better her performance during a con.

The man named Diggle met them in the dining room and walked them to the back. They had waited until the Division team had walked in to begin their approach. She wanted to be the last one there and that meant that she couldn’t sit. Eliot couldn’t prowl around the room and rile anyone up. They needed to be calm and for that she needed to sit. The fast food smell intensified when they reached the party room. The shades were pulled down for privacy and she had to stop the laughter from bubbling from her chest at the sight.

Oliver Queen sat at the end of the table with the woman she assumed was The Canary to his left. Diggle sat on his other side while the Division crew filled up the rest of the table where Nikita sat at the other head. There were two seats left next to Michael on one side and the young woman with them on the next. In front of them all were paper party plates with a tray of stacked burgers and fries in the middle of the table.

“Finally, I can eat,” a blonde operative said. Parker stiffened and immediately felt Eliot place his hand on her lower back. She controlled her breathing.

“Owen, right?” She said. The man looked back at her while reaching for a burger. The brunette woman next to him slapped his hand and rolled her eyes.

“Manners! Like you haven’t eaten in weeks!” She snapped at him. Her voice was flirtatious. They were familiar with each other. He grabbed the burger anyway with a smug look on his face.

“Today, I haven’t eaten…today. And it’s not Owen at least not anymore. My name is Sam,” he finally answered Parker. She tipped her head to the side trying to keep the gesture as light as possible.

“It’s complicated,” Nikita said from her place. “So, let’s get this little party started.”

Parker squeezed Eliot’s shoulder and he sat next to Michael with a small grin on his bruised face.

“I think it’s safe to say that this is the worst party ever,” Parker said. “We came here tonight because our partner was kidnapped from our offices in New York a little over 24 hours ago. His name is Alec Hardison and we believe that he had some kind of connection with a woman here in Starling City named Felicity Smoak.”

She leaned on the back of the last chair and looked down at he vigilantes. Diggle was mainly impassive, arms folded across his chest and eyes narrowing in Eliot’s direction. Meanwhile The Canary and The Arrow couldn’t hide the flashes of emotion dancing across their features. They knew this woman well. She was a friend. Maybe more.

“We arrived in the office right after the attack. There was a message playing on look,” Eliot’s voice caused every head to turn in his direction.  
“What kind of message,” Oliver asked.

“It was only audio but it seemed like a warning,” Parker answered him. “Water in the basement…”

“Pilot light is out?” Sara asked. She sat up straighter in her chair and Oliver inched closer to her.

“So, they knew each other,” Diggle said. “Plenty of other hackers know of each other.”

“Not like this,” Parker said. She pulled a thick envelope from the back of her jacket and rolled her eyes when everyone but Eliot flinched. She waved the envelope until everyone settled back down and reminded herself it could always be worse. For a room full of spooks and assassins they were less jumpy than she thought. Or they just carried more weapons than she thought.

“Hardison had a backup program designed to activate if something ever happened to him. When the program ran he left us a message about Felicity Smoak and their past together. They were friends, a team, maybe a little bit more than a team,” Parker said.

“What the hell does that mean?” Sara growled.

“Mr. Diggle is correct in saying that many hackers know of each other but this is different. They worked together for 5 years. Felicity was 15 when they started and Hardison was 17 in 2003. It seems like they were apart of a cell of what you would now coin as hacktivists,” Parker said. “They worked jobs all over the world.”

“And so, how does this help us?” Nikita asked. “Our friends, as I’m sure you know were Division Agents around 2002 and 2007 respectively.”

“Here, pass it around,” Parker said. She stood next to Nikita when the file came around to her and flipped the pages.

“Your friends, I’m assuming Sonya Tomlin, now Birkhoff, worked with them in the past. Sometimes even in the field. Seymour Birkhoff also known as Lionel Peller consulted with Felicity and Alec for around a year until their failed hack of the Pentagon landed him in prison in 2002. I’m assuming that’s what really peaked Percy’s interest considering he took the fall.”

“You know most of that is public information now?” Michael said.

“I’m interested,” Nikita said. “So they were in what? A little hacker cell?”

“They called themselves Section One and operated from 2003-2006 with assistance from their allies throughout the years,” Parker said. “Someone went through great pains to keep their exploits secret. I’m guessing Percy.”

“So, are we just going to ignore the big elephant in the room?” Nikita asked.

“Is it relevant?” Eliot growled. “Parker was Division now she’s not and neither are any of you. Question answered.”

“That’s not the elephant,” the young woman beside Sam said. A small smile crossed her features.  
“Do we really have time for this?” Parker asked. “Last I checked we all have friends to rescue and neither of you are my first pick for help either. Secret black ops group and lunatic vigilantes playing dress up.”

“Assassin turned thief and a not so retired hitter are any better?” Michael replied.

“I’m willing to put up with it if it means finding Hardison. We all know this was deliberate and clearly synchronized. That means it’s a common enemy,” Eliot spoke up.

“So, will you help us?” Parker asked.

 

*******

 

“What the hell are you doing anyway?”

Sonya turned at the saccharine voice and glanced over at the blonde woman in the next cell.

“There’s someone on the other side of this wall, captive like us,” Sonya said. “I’m trying to communicate with him.”

“How do you know it’s a guy?” Felicity asked.

“One knock is yes, two is no. He’s injured,” Sonya said.

“Helpful. You know you can’t be sure that guy is like us. For all you know he could be one of them. What did they teach you at Division?” Felicity said.

“They taught me to hope. It keeps you alive even when you think you’re done,” Sonya replied. “Shadow Walker taught me that.”

“Well, you’d better hope that whoever is in that cell is actually an ally. I don’t think these guys are the type to just let you communicate like that,” Felicity said. She used the bars to pull herself up and stretch her legs. There was no use in letting her limbs fall asleep. She’d never be able to run if she got the opportunity. Using the wall for support she moved around the cell.

“Then why’d they put you in here?” Sonya asked with a smirk. “I’m less likely to care if you’re tortured in front of me.”

“Maybe I’m the torture. Just little ol’ me. They know we’re more than acquainted with each other. More than that they know we share a strong dislike of one another,” Felicity said.

“What’s their game?” Sonya muttered. She eased away from the wall and stood up to stretch as well. Loud metallic clicks echoed around them. And they each looked towards their door. Felicity backed up as far into her cell as possible and Sonya followed suit.

“Still copying me?” Felicity smirked.

“I don’t want to be going out there anymore than you do,” Sonya answered. Her arms wrapped consciously around her middle. A door opened but it wasn’t hers. She was getting a little tired of this. Felicity didn’t fight the two men that came in and took her by the arms and pulled her out. Just before the door closed she glanced over at Sonya, now pressed into the far corner away from the bars.

“See you around, Whisper,” she said. The door slammed shut behind her and the aftermath was nothing but the sound of Sonya’s deep breathing. With the camera still trained on her she wrapped the cardigan she wore more tightly around her to conceal the hand on her belly.

They were all right. For now.

 

********

 

The two guards let go of her once they were in the hall and without their support Felicity stumbled into the wall and grunted on impact. The floor was cold out in the hallway and she found herself shifting from foot to foot as they stood there.

“That’s it?” She muttered.

Another door opened one down from Sonya’s and Felicity paused. The men shoved her forward and she stumbled again feeling suddenly unwilling to see who was greeting her. Her legs locked and they had to grab her arms again. Another pair of guards appeared and dragged a man out with impossibly long limbs. He was taller than the guards but slumped when he walked and clutched his side protectively. The light in the hallway was sparse. Only a few industrial lamps hung from the ceiling and cast shadows about. As he drew closer she felt her hair start to stand and her palms began to sweat. The man lumbered towards her with assistance from the guards and came to a stop under the light with a sharp intake of breath.

Her arm extended and she forgot to pretend. It was impossible with him so close by. She reached for him automatically and he took her hand in two of his. Dark skin covered hers and she ground her teeth to prevent the exclamation from bubbling forth.

“Felicity,” Hardison said barely above a whisper. It had been years, literally, since she had moved the Starling they hadn’t met in person. He was busy with his crew and she was helping Team Arrow. His arms were around in her in a crushing hug before she could say his name. He hissed when she touched his side. Bruised ribs were a bitch. She’d helped set broken ones enough to know.

“Hardison,” Felicity murmured. It was like coming home. The guards pulled them apart and neither of them fought it. She expected to go back to a cell where she could explain that she had tried to warn him and go over who she thought was behind this. Hope bubbled up in her and for a moment she knew it would work out until they moved them past the cells. She counted the lights as they were dragged back to the room she started out in.

It wasn’t nearly as dark but she still had to squint to look around. Unlike the cells concrete walls surrounded them. There were high windows and the space was set up with several archways. Felicity guessed it must have been early evening by the just faded light. There were several computer stations set up beyond what looked like a pulpit. She hadn’t noticed before when she was tied to the chair and questioned. There was still a row of pews left closest to the pulpit. Behind them there was nothing but crates and a large display screen set up.

Felicity and Hardison were led to the pews. She tried to look around as much as possible before a sharp kick to the knee dropped her to the hard bench and knock against Hardison’s shoulder. The men stepped back. She guessed there was no point in tying them up now.

“I guess there’s no point in trying to run,” Hardison said. “I can’t tell which way is which anymore.”

“Hardison…I’m so sorry,” Felicity, said, unable to keep the quake from her voice. She tried to breathe deeply but actually having him right next to her meant too many things, dangerous things.

“I just wanted to know how you were. I thought enough time had passed,” Felicity said.

“If you hadn’t I would have eventually. I missed you, too,” He replied. Felicity took his hand and smiled grimly.

“This is a kick, huh?” She said and jerked her head towards the pulpit. Hardison just grinned at her and for a moment she could remember him just as she left him 10 years ago. Long limbs splayed out across a sofa and a cheesy grin on his face. She had often wondered just how much of that guy was left after they were busted.

Heavy footfalls echoed from down the hall accompanying the sound of a body being dragged. More guards entered and dropped two other young men that she recognized on the next pew. One was unconscious and the other bodily fought the men until they forced him to sit. He earned a hit to the face and a split lip for his troubles. Seymour Birkhoff glanced over at them all sandy hair and shifty eyes. His gaze darted around the room almost too alert for a disenfranchised hacker but not too much for a former Division agent.

“Well, here we all are,” the voice made Hardison freeze in recognition next to her. She had guessed right that he was an enemy of sorts.

“Mr. Hardison,” his accent was like velvet and sent a shiver down her spine. He approached the front, dressed in a simple grey suit and wearing a confident smile. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Damien Moreau,” Hardison said. “H-how?”

“My employer decided on an upgrade,” Moreau said conversationally. He gestured around. “I really appreciate the marble cornices in the entry way. You’ll see them tomorrow.”

“I’ve been monitoring--”

“For a breakout. A big explosion and a call from President Vittori?” Moreau taunted. “Your mistake is the same as many. You thought I was the top man in the operation when really I’m just the tip of the iceberg. My employer was very forgiving. Especially since I was never in that prison in the first place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Hardison shouted.

“All in good time,” Moreau said. He walked over to the unconscious man and slapped him hard in the face causing him to jump and scoot back against the bench.

“Now that you’re all awake I have a proposal for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! There's more to come.


End file.
